or to lead me to Uxbridge.'

"It however so happened, that I had occasion to go to Uxbridge, and I
determined to try if my horse retained his dislike to the yard of the
Crown Inn. I accordingly rode up the street until I came opposite to
the inn-yard of the Crown. I faced about," said the sergeant, "seated
myself firmly in my stirrups," at the same time exhibiting the
attitude in which the feat was to be performed. "Expecting a plunge
from my horse, I stuck my spurs into his sides, and pushed him forward
into the yard; but what was my surprise to find him enter the yard as
quietly as a cow that had just gone in before him. But I was not long
in doubt as to what appeared to be the cause of this change in his
antipathies, by the landlord's coming up to him and tapping him on the
shoulder: 'Ha, Jack!' says he, 'I'm glad to see you again; I thought I
had lost you.' 'What do you mean, Mr. Landlord?' 'Sir,' says he, this
horse was stolen from me about six months ago; and I have never seen
him since.' I did not much relish this piece of information," rejoined
the sergeant, "but I could not help laughing at the conceit of the
horse-dealer, to prevent me from going to a place where his theft of
the horse would be discovered: I wished I had attended to his caution,
as the sale to me was not regular, and I was left to make the best
terms I could with the landlord." What they were he kept to himself.

Fielding was a contemporary member of the home-circuit, with Sergeant
Bond and myself. In the performance of the duties of conviviality,
over which the learned sergeant, as head of the circuit, presided, he
found in Fielding a powerful auxiliary. He was the son of the author
of _Tom Jones_, and inherited to a great degree the wit and talents of
his father.